


The One Where Things Are Rather Dire

by RurouniHime



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Established Relationship, Fuck Or Die, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 07:05:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RurouniHime/pseuds/RurouniHime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>See title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where Things Are Rather Dire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snottygrrl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snottygrrl/gifts).



> **Warning:** Because of the Pon Farr-type brain chemistry issue (if it isn't resolved through sex or violence [or meditation but that makes no never mind here], the individual dies), this has dub-con elements, but they disappear quickly.
> 
> The seventh of thirteen ficlets I wrote for various people during a gift exchange this year. The goal was 500 words for everyone (and believe you me, that was HARD. I am Bad at writing Short Things). Everyone got a choice of my fandoms/pairings. What a treat, to get to write this fanfic trope. Never done it before, and I'll admit it, I HAVE A THING FOR PON FARR, OKAY. ^_^
> 
> This one is for snottygrrl, who is bloody fantastic. ^_^ Happy holidays, lovely lady!

“Oh, thank god.” Yusuf pushes the front door wide. 

Arthur tosses his jacket aside. “Where is he?”

When they reach the bedroom, Ariadne stands from her chair.

“Got his shirt off, but when I touched him—” She clears her throat.

Eames lies curled atop the bed, hands clutched against his chest. His skin is a sallow mess of sweat, and he shakes, breath hitching. Scent floods through Arthur. He jerks toward the bed as Eames lets out a broken cry. Ariadne flinches guiltily. 

“It’s alright.” Arthur pulls his vest off and works his sleeve cuffs open. “Really, Ariadne. Yusuf, what happened?”

“His chemist induced a Fall.”

Arthur’s mouth fills with iron. “Mother _fucker.”_

“He realized what was happening, told me to get him out,” Ariadne manages. “I brought him here.” 

Eames thrashes at Yusuf’s quilt. His eyes roll white and he chokes. Arthur kicks his shoes off and kneels on the mattress. “Thank you.”

Yusuf turns Ariadne toward the door. “We’ll be outside, just…” He nods, pushes her into the hallway ahead of him. 

Arthur wrenches his shirt buttons free and flings the garment aside, goes to work on his pants. Reaches for Eames’. “Can you hear me?”

Already Eames’ body is seizing atop the bed. The smell is too heady, all _wrong._ Arthur gives up and grabs his mate, pulls him down the bed. At the touch, Eames snaps taut, latches onto him, claws at bare skin. Tucks his nose tight to Arthur’s ribs and sucks a noisy breath. With effort, Arthur catches his face in his hands. “Eames!”

Nothing but the flutter of eyelids. Scent flushes anew. Arthur sways. He kisses Eames’ mouth hard, nearly pulled under by it, and just barely draws back. “Look at me.”

The spasms turn into a vibration. Arthur’s throat clots. He yanks Eames’ trousers down and flattens bodily atop him, praying the scent and sensation will jolt Eames through, but Eames’ seizure only worsens. Arthur hesitates a second longer, then insinuates himself between Eames’ thighs and presses his hips against the damp cradle there.

Eames’ eyes shoot wide and he goes rigid. Arthur is quick to catch his face again, direct his gaze. “S’alright, it’s me, it’s _me.”_

Eames shudders. _“Arthur—”_

Arthur cants his hips, enters Eames in a swift, wet thrust, and feels the instant Eames’ brain chemistry switches, loosens his body and begins the long slope toward the end. Eames goes slack, then cleaves to him, cinching round him, his taste a surge. Arthur knots faster than he ever has. He drives Eames through his first orgasm, then his second. Kisses him through the third.

Eames’ final cry is nothing more than a whimper. Arthur thumbs Eames’ lips, mouths his throat. Trembles down and settles. 

Electrolytes, should have asked Yusuf. Water, food. Eames murmurs against his cheek. He smells right again, still in the Fall, but normal. Arthur tastes iron again faintly.

He’ll kill the other chemist. He will.

Eames’ mouth— _darling_ — is a soothing warmth over Arthur’s skin.

~fin~


End file.
